Pancake Day (T)
by Fixomnia Scribble
Summary: An answer to a couple of prompts! As usual, a couple of quick prompts turned into a Whole Big Thing. And it's sort of a coda for "Shipping and Handling" and "Your Medic, Your Chaplain" THIS IS THE T VERSION. Still steamy, but not scalding, as some younger readers put in requests that ended up here. There an "M" version nearby.


"You look awful!"

Jamie resisted the urge to mess up his niece's hair, and acknowledged that she might be right. He had a pair of bags the size of steamer trunks under his eyes, and the sparkle was about gone from Eddie's.

"Thanks, Nicky."

"No, I mean, I'm just glad you finally get some time off." Nicky went on. She sat down on the bench in the back door entryway, and wrapped her arms around her knees as he and Eddie methodically removed scarves, coats and gloves. "It's been at least two weeks, right?"

"Seventeen days," Eddie answered flatly, sitting beside Nicky to unzip her boots.

It was nobody's fault. Their last two RTO periods had been taken up with court dates and an urgent domestic abuse case, and then covering for sick colleagues as a virus ran riot through the precinct. Since they'd been among the first to succumb to the virus, they were the first back on duty, and hadn't had a chance to recuperate properly. "But as of midnight this morning, we are done, and right after lunch today we are _running_ _away_."

She gave her boot a decisive kick, and it flipped in a neat arc to land more or less upright.

"Are you?" Erin asked, overhearing this as she came to greet them. "Where to?"

"I found us an Airbnb in the Catskills," Jamie said. "Late Valentine's Day getaway, since we were both sick then."

"Nice! I think I'm jealous. Guess we know what you're _not_ giving up for Lent."

"Mother!" Nicky yelped, aghast.

But Erin just snickered along with Eddie. Nicky huffed and escaped to the kitchen, muttering about totally embarrassing parents, and they followed her towards the smell of roast beef and buttered vegetables. Danny was there ahead of them, transferring the juicy, dripping joint from the roasting pan to the carving board to rest.

"You can't have slept much today," Erin commented. "You sure you don't want to wait another night?"

"Nope. We're outta here. We'll be back on Tuesday sometime," Eddie told his sister. "Not too late. Jamie wants to get to sunrise Mass on Ash Wednesday."

"The seven o'clock, if I can," he agreed. "We can't wear ashes in uniform, but some of us keep them on a handkerchief or something for the day."

"Baez hides hers under her bangs at work," Danny mimed at his own forehead. "But then she doesn't have to wear a duty cap. Someone else better do the gravy, here. The lumps I always end up with are a Lenten sacrifice all their own."

"We'll do the gravy and mash," Jamie said. "There any stout we can use?"

Danny smirked, watching them move around the kitchen for supplies. "Lookit you two, all coordinated and domestic. Oh, hey – " he realized, "You guys'll miss the pancakes."

"Pancakes?" Eddie asked.

Only someone listening for it would have caught the slight dip in her voice that had nothing to do with her usual interest in all things food. But Jamie noticed. He gave the delicious curve at her waist a surreptitious squeeze as he passed by on his way to the fridge.

"Pancake Tuesday. The five-four does a community breakfast by donation," Danny explained, as if Eddie didn't already know about every police pancake fundraiser in the city. "The command staff does all the cooking and serving. Dad's flipped a stack or two for us over the years. I was gonna ask Sarge here to take over the family griddle this year, but I guess that'll wait."

"Don't worry. I'll make you pancakes at the cottage," Jamie told her. He wasn't as careful as Eddie had been. Erin caught something in his tone, and slewed her eyes at him as she passed him the flour tin. She might not know the details, but she knew a coded intercept when she heard it.

He served up his most innocent-little-brother expression and stole a crispy scrap from the roasting pan. Eddie pretended to look very hard in the drawer for a potato masher.

Nicky rolled her eyes at the lot of them.

* * *

It was at least a week since they'd done anything more than mumble an agreement as to whose bed to sleep in, and crash in it, Eddie mused, drifting into her thoughts as the table conversation swirled around her.

They certainly slept more soundly together than apart, and the need for touch and comfort was somewhat allayed, but they needed to reconnect properly. With Jamie beside her, each knowing exactly how tired and busy the other was, she felt instead that they were keeping each other going till the finish line - soldiers in their small army - with the prospect of an adventure and some romantic downtime as a reward.

Their overnight bags were waiting in Jamie's car. After lunch, they would set off for a four hour drive up to the mountains, just themselves, cellphones off, good music and good company. It was a long drive after a long day, as Erin said, but their Airbnb host had left everything in readiness, and they could fall into bed as early as they wanted and sleep as long as they needed. They had food and supplies packed for a couple of days and wouldn't have to leave the cottage if they didn't want to.

"Eddie, more roast beast for you?"

"Hm?" she blinked and collected herself rapidly. "Yes, thanks," she said to Frank. "Sorry. Just tired out."

Frank gave her one of his nicest smiles. "I'm glad you're making good use of your days off. A strategic getaway always helps."

Under the table, Jamie's toe nudged the back of her calf. She tried not to blush furiously as she made pleasant conversation with her future father-in-law.

* * *

The drive itself was the stuff of dreams: sunny, cold and crisp, with deepening snow and clear azure skies all the way up into the mountains. Even with the low outdoor temperatures, the afternoon sun turned the car into a greenhouse, and soon they were riding along in shirtsleeves sharing a bottle of iced tea as if it was summer.

Eddie stretched her arms luxuriously in the passenger seat. She'd been worried they'd be too sleepy to enjoy the drive, but the scenery and the prospect of escape was a tonic, as the Palisades Parkway gave way to farm-dotted county roads and then winding mountain passes through deep pine forest. She felt bright and alert for the first time in days, as they talked of anything and everything, telling old stories and terrible jokes.

"Tell me again about wanting to be a forest ranger?" she asked, "'Cause I can so see you doing that in another life. Maybe it's the uniform…"

"Living up here away from the city, couple big dogs and a good library?" he agreed, "Get to know all the old hunters and trappers up here, learn something from them? Yeah, I could do that. Maybe I'd have become a writer. What about you?"

"Oh, I _dreamed _of running away to the mountains," she said frankly, "Building a shelter and making everything I needed, like those scrappy little girls in old novels. I wouldn't have lasted a night. But now?" she pondered briefly. "Yeah, I could see me doing a couple of years of rural duty upstate."

Jamie glanced over, interested. "Think we should?"

"I hadn't really thought too deeply about it. Maybe?"

"You, me, low-crime town that mostly needs trouble kept out of it, handful of kids and a house with a big yard. Till the kids need more to do in a bigger city."

"I'm not sure I'm cut out for small-town life. I'm not that patient. I'd make enemies. I'd blunder into some thirty-year-old thing between families."

"Or you might be exactly what they need to get shook out of themselves and get over the thirty-year-old thing. That lasagne of yours would sure help."

"Ha! Now _you_, they'd love. You can talk fishing and plant names and stuff with people."

He grinned behind his shades, looking ten years younger than he had all week. "Imagine taking the kids on nature walks out here. Imagine bringing them on drives like this."

She felt a thrum of excitement roll through her, scary-good and thrilling. This was what they'd been missing for weeks. She was grateful they could rely on their history as partners and years of fine-tuning their sarcastic stress-release to get them through the sheer grit of hard work, but this was what they needed now. Laughing and playing and dreaming. Loving.

"Oh, we will. And we'll get good and dirty and play in streams. _Together_."

She didn't have to tell him what she meant, or what it meant to her.

They rounded the last bend to the cottage at the same moment as the early evening alpenglow hit, every distant mountain peak and snow-laden treetop flaring rose-gold and cast in high relief against the fading blue light of day. A small silvery hawk shot out of a tree and climbed upwards, and then another, the pair of them chasing and playing for a brief moment in their hardscrabble lives.

She felt her breath catch, and had to swallow on an unexpected lump in her throat. It felt silly to be overwhelmed by what was, truly, an everyday scene, but it was a wordless, natural response, sliding under all her busy thoughts and personal concerns to grab her right in the gut.

_Yeah, I've been more stressed than I realized. And I really need to get out of the city more often._

_I get to live in a place where moments like this exist._

And yes, as Jamie reminded her, to share them with children of their own.

And then they were there.

It was a tiny white cottage with blue trim, near the end of a long looping road in the middle of the forest. The windows on either side of the door were draped in simple green curtains. It had the appearance of being up to its knees in snow. A neat path with banks three feet high had been dug from the parking space to the door, and down one side to the back.

"Look at this!" Eddie said softly, as they climbed out of the car and breathed in the clean and snow-muffled air.

"Even better than the photos," Jamie said.

They took their time, putting layers of clothing back on and looking up at the first stars coming out above the treeline. Collecting their bags from the trunk, they crunched down the frozen path, found the keys that the host had mailed to them, and stepped inside.

The little cottage seemed glad to see them. The main space was an open L-shape, with a corner kitchen in white, a dining area with a sturdy oak table and chairs, and a small living room with old but well-tended furniture. The bathroom, bedroom and a laundry/mudroom were down a short hallway. In the middle was an open fireplace with a broad granite hearth on three sides. It had three pairs of stove-glass doors that could be closed as needed, and a black hood curving over into the square granite chimney at the rear. A set of hand-forged iron fire tools hung from hooks in the chimney. Under the hearth, rows of split firewood and bundles of kindling were neatly stacked, enough for a few days.

It was cold inside, but a good fire was laid ready to light. The fireplace would heat the open space quickly, and the radiant heat from the stone chimney would keep the back rooms comfortable.

"Oh!" Eddie said, "Can we just move in?"

"Bit of a long commute, but I'm up for it."

He lifted her overnight bag off her shoulder, and headed to the bedroom while she sorted out the kitchen supplies. She decided to light the fire first, feeling all pioneerish despite having only to strike a match and light the bottom layer of crumpled newspaper. She sat on a leather stool beside the hearth, admiring the greedy flames as the kindling and smaller pieces caught. Then, realising she was dozing off, she got up and quickly arranged their food supplies in the fridge and cupboards.

"Nice," Jamie approved, coming back into the kitchen. "Bedroom looks great. Good bed, thank God. And a space heater so we don't have to wait for the whole place to warm up."

"Oh, good. I don't know how much longer I'm gonna be awake," she admitted, as he gathered her up for a hug. He gave a soft laugh, his eyes tired but happy, and focussed entirely on her, in that way that had sent the flutters through her since their very first shift. Jamie's brain, she knew, always had multiple operations going on, but he wasn't worrying or thinking about work, for once.

"Me neither. And it's not even eight. Let's just make some tea and hang out here for a bit. It'll take some time for the bedroom to get warm."

"I'll get you warm," she promised. She trailed off as he found her mouth with soft little kisses, then trailed down her throat, tasting and nibbling till she melted and sighed in pleasure.

He leaned his forehead against hers, and she held him tightly, just the two of them breathing together. The tightly coiled stress of the past weeks began to unwind, and she felt the same sense of awe as she'd had watching the hawks playing together at sundown. As natural and easy as it had been to fall in love with him, every time it hit her she felt like she somehow had the undeserved luck to be in just the right place at the right time.

_This…this is what kept us both going. Being able to tap into this. And being busy at work is just a hint of how complicated our life is going to get._

"Well, we're gonna have to plan regular getaways out of the city, is all I can say, Mister."

"I'll start a new line item in the family budget. Wait, how many trips per year are we talking?"

"Jerk." She thumped his chest and giggled.

His eyes dropped to her mouth, and he looked up again with that terribly earnest appeal that always unravelled her a little. "Long as I'm your jerk," he murmured.

For that he got a proper kiss, unhurried and sweet. With the warmth and sound of a crackling fire surrounding them, and Jamie stroking her cheek with gentle fingers, it was pretty damn perfect. This was what they'd really been missing.

They managed to assemble tea and toast, and showered off the journey and the stresses of the week. They built up the fire and banked it with embers and closed the glass doors, and it wasn't long before they were curled together in the big warm bed, anchoring each other fast as they fell hard into sleep.

* * *

He felt like he'd woken up in a different world before he even opened his eyes. The deep silence of the mountains, punctuated by Eddie's even breathing, and the pale light of dawn easing through the drapes brought him back to consciousness by degrees. He recognized that his stomach hadn't clenched immediately in slight annoyance and dread, as it had started to do this past week. He could roll over and go back to sleep if he wanted to – and in fact, he probably should, given that he'd been running on a negative energy balance for a while.

But first things first.

He was surprised, heading to the bathroom, how well the fireplace did its job. Once the chimney was warmed, it kept the whole place at a nice ambient temperature all night.

His next stop was to check the fire, which was burning low but glowing nicely. He raked the embers level, added a layer of kindling and another of split rounds, and made a mental note to find out where the woodpile was.

Then coffee. As much as he disliked the thought of being addicted to anything, there were some weeks when coffee was a necessity. He'd go through his usual forty-eight hour withdrawal after they were back home, not on their vacation. Checking the kitchen in the light of day, he found both a standard electric coffeemaker and a blue speckled-enamel percolator. He decided to get into the whole retreat experience, and reached for the percolator. The fire was at the perfect stage for boiling camp coffee.

He was sitting at the dining table, with the coffee bubbling away in the embers and a plate of muffins warming up on the hearth, when he heard Eddie moving around. She'd crashed hard for eight hours, and she looked adorably sleepy when she came around the corner.

She also looked like a dream. Having gone to bed with damp hair, she had a riot of unruly waves around her pixieish face. Her eyes were smiling and sparkly again, matching the blue lingerie set he'd given her a while back.

"Morning," she mumbled. "That smells amazing."

"Food always smells best by a fire."

"Lessons learned at Scout Camp?"

"And fishing trips."

She laughed and came to sit on his lap, sliding her arms around his neck. "Of course. Hello."

"Hi there," he grinned, holding her steady around the waist, and looked up hopefully for her kiss. She took her time with him, grazing his mouth with hers, sinking deeper and deeper until he took over and kissed her breathless, just as she'd wanted.

"Just an appetizer," he murmured. "Gotta eat."

It was so damn good to have the time to tease each other again.

"Appetizer yourself," she retorted.

It was like being on a miniature honeymoon. Little touches and glances kept sneaking in, and a few ribald kisses that had them both panting for more. After breakfast, she took him by the hand and led him back to the bedroom, her eyes alight.

The morning had turned glorious outside, the early spring sun picking out every snow-laden tree, the sky cloudless and serene above. He didn't notice any of this, except for the pale sunlight slanting across Eddie's skin.

"We could go for a hike later," Jamie suggested, some time later. Eddie thought he sounded more dutiful than enthusiastic. It seemed a pity to spend a day like this inside, but it was also very cold out, and they were warm and snug.

"We could, that's true," she replied. She was curled into his side, rubbing his chest with her cheek like a cat as his fingers played in her hair. "I guess it would be silly to miss out."

"…or we can stay in bed all day. We're grownups. I think I can look my trainer in the eye and tell him I got my cardio in_._"

She cracked up at that. She rested her chin on her hand, regarding him with amusement.

"I like how you're thinking. But it's barely seven. Let's nap some more and start the day all over again later."

"You're already planning a second breakfast," he accused, his arm around her shoulders jostling her gently.

"No-o-o," she insisted, and then, as he threatened to tickle her ribs: "_Yes_! Fine! Yes."

* * *

It was a morning of recovery and catching up, drifting up from sleep to head to the kitchen for snacks and to poke the fire, and back to the big bed to cuddle and doze and talk. In the afternoon, with the sun cascading down high above upon thickly forested slopes and pristine snow, they found the energy to bundle up and explore outside.

Across from the house was the sign pointing to a network of trails through the forest, which they decided they should learn more about in the summer, when snowshoes weren't required. They walked up the road as far as it was ploughed, and kicked steps out of a hard-packed snowbank to look out over a mountain valley, a wide sparkling white bowl cut with a few ski runs and excited dog prints. There were no snowmobile tracks or other signs of human activity.

"We gotta come back here with cross-country skis, before spring," Jamie said. "Do you ski? I don't know why I never asked that."

"We never really considered taking winter trips together until recently," she pointed out, "And yes, I do. Downhill and cross-country. I learned, um, in Switzerland. We – " she gestured vaguely, "We went on holidays there a couple of winters. I think Mom had some idea of parking me in a boarding school in St. Moritz. Dad would never have agreed."

"Swiss boarding school, huh," he repeated. He was quiet for a moment, and then cleared his throat. "You'd have had one hell of an alumni list."

She looked over at him. His gaze was on the scene in front of them, but he wasn't seeing it.

"Hey," she said, squeezing his hand, "This is me, Reagan. I never asked for that life. I took it for granted when I was a kid, 'cause why wouldn't I, but I never asked for it, and I wouldn't want it now. I wouldn't be a cop, and I wouldn't have known this feeling of doing exactly what I was supposed to do with my life. And I wouldn't have met _you_. So stop thinking what you're thinking. And trust me, do _not_ let my mother's voice get into your head. I wish you could have met my grandparents. I don't know where the hell my mother gets her social-climby ideas from. I've wondered if it's some reaction to my grandparents having to count every penny after they got here. Some people learn a work ethic from it. Others…"

She shrugged and trailed off. Trying to picture her mother working at anything besides a showy charity fundraiser was impossible.

Jamie thought about this in silence, and then drew her into the crook of his arm.

"I just never want you to regret...that you could have had that life. That you could take holidays in Europe and not worry about the bills, and live whatever lifestyle you want."

"Is that where all this worrying over money comes from?"

"That, and being raised in a big family that always had to be careful and go without new stuff or extras, most of the time. We had tough choices to make."

"Well, so did my family, except for my parents. Like I said. And it's just sad, because with Dad's business skills and Mom's charisma, when she wants to use it, they could have been successful for real. Not built on lies." She looked up. "I know which life I want. For our family. If we take the kids to Europe it'll be because we've earned it and it'll be an adventure, not something to come home and brag about. Like this trip."

He gathered her up in his arms and rested his cheek on her crown. "I know, but thank you for saying so." he murmured.

When they returned, they found the woodpile under a shelter at the back of the cottage. Jamie set to work off his residual tension by splitting rounds of birch and pine with the big axe, and she kept him company chopping down kindling with the hatchet. So quiet was the mountain slope they were on that she could hear the echoes of the axe-blows from far away.

At length, when Jamie was working in a smoothly fluid rhythm, and had a nice semi-circle of firewood rising behind the chopping block, he noticed her watching.

She'd been watching him for a while, down to his shirtsleeves and looking all rumpled and rugged.

"Want to swap?" he asked, pausing to lean on the axe handle and catch his breath. He gestured to the round he had ready on the chopping block. "It doesn't take shoulder muscle so much as – "

She took three strides toward him, and grabbing a fistful of flannel, took his mouth in a hard, hungry kiss. He let out a rough groan and pulled her in tight, staggering back till they were braced against the wall of the cottage.

"God, Eddie…"

Then she dragged his rugged ass inside, into the shower to prove to him again exactly how happy he made her, just as he was.

* * *

On Tuesday morning, she woke up to morning light through the drapes, and the brisk crackling of the fire, but no Jamie. From the tantalizing aroma in the kitchen, she guessed he hadn't gone far.

She sat up and reached for her robe, looking around the tidy little room with some regret, wishing they didn't have to leave so soon. At least they had most of the day ahead of them, and a long drive home later. She could have done with a full week off, but the exhausted numbness was gone. She felt her old self again, and was even curious to see what had become of her cases in her absence.

But for now, breakfast. Jamie's promise of pancakes smelled like it was about to be delivered.

Just as she got up, she heard footsteps, and then Jamie appeared in the doorway. He was just wearing a kitchen apron and his boxers, and carried a tray with two coffee mugs, a bowl of strawberries, and a plate of neatly rolled crepes stuffed with ham and mushrooms and herbs in a creamy sauce.

"Back in bed, woman," he said sternly.

She didn't bother collecting her jaw off the floor, but happily scrambled back under the covers, hitching up the pillows behind her. When she was settled, Jamie handed her the tray.

"Oh, my God," Eddie breathed. "Could you possibly be more amazing?"

"Want me to feed you?" he smirked. He tugged off the apron, and slid under the covers to join her. He picked out a strawberry and held it out to her, and she leaned in with laughing eyes to claim it. His eyes fixed on hers, darkening as she licked around his fingertips. She slid her fingers down his chest, and felt his rumbled response.

"Careful," he murmured, "Don't spill the coffee."

"Heaven forbid," she said, and sat back. "How did you do all this so fast? It would take me hours."

"Oh, magic. And planning. The tub that said "casserole" was actually the filling, and I had everything measured for the crepes ahead of time. All I had to do was mix up the batter and decide whether to go with savory or chocolate.

"You brought chocolate?"

"Of course I brought chocolate. It's hidden in the bag of bread rolls."

"Ah. More Boy Scout tricks."

"Always. Try the strawberries with the crème fraiche."

She did. "Oh, wow. That is special."

"This is way more what I had in mind for bringing you breakfast in bed on Valentine's Day," he agreed.

They worked their way through breakfast, feeding each other bites. If anyone had told her a week ago, while they were so tired they were really starting to snap at each other, that they'd be spending Pancake Day sitting in bed in a mountain retreat, feeding each other strawberries and drowning in each other's eyes, she might have had an easier time of it.

This was a feeling they could hold onto, she thought. Something they could plan and look forward to when life became an unforgiving grind and they were running on empty.

* * *

"I triple-checked. We're good." Eddie assured him, as they loaded their bags into the Mustang. "Nothing in the fridge or cupboards. The sheets were dry enough, so I remade the bed."

"Fireplace all taken care of, too," he added. "We just have to make sure we gas up at the first place we find, and we're set."

He stood beside the car, taking a last look at the little cottage. "This has been amazing. We gotta come back here."

"We will."

"With skis," Eddie said, settling herself in the driver's seat for the first leg of the journey home. "If we're gonna take the kids on winter getaways, we better brush up our skills."

"You teach 'em to ski, I'll teach 'em to fish," he agreed, and they turned onto the snowy road back home.


End file.
